


I found you

by Ana_Jacobs



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur and Merlin are obviously in love, Arthur finds Merlin, Canon Era, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Comforting Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Daegal Deserved Better, Daegal Lives, Episode: s05e08 The Hollow Queen, Gwaine and Percival Join the Search, Gwen Is Under Morgana's Spell, Happy Ending, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, I hate writing her like that but she was enchanted, I still love Gwen a lot though, I'm so sorry, In Character, M/M, POV Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), but you can read it as platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:34:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28453953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ana_Jacobs/pseuds/Ana_Jacobs
Summary: Basically, it’s a rewriting of episode s05e08 The Hollow Queen. Everything is the same except Gaius tells Arthur the truth, Arthur worries and goes to look for Merlin himself and Merlin doesn’t have to go through another near-to-death experience alone (alone= without Arthur) because Arthur is there to comfort him.Oh, and Daegal lives.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 163





	I found you

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiii I’m baaaack! Happy New Year everyone!!! 2020 was a shitty year, we all agree, but it was also the year in which I discovered Merlin so not everything was that bad! I wanted to step into the new year clinging to the few good things last year left me, so here you have this brand-new Merlin fic.
> 
> Taking advantage of Christmas extra-time, I’ve written this fic just because I really needed to. I mean, Merlin is always there for Arthur whenever he is sick or hurt, but my poor boy almost always has to go through illness and injury alone and I’m so sick of it. And when I first watched this episode, I desperately hoped Arthur would go find Merlin, but he didn’t because Gaius didn’t stick up for him and I’m still mad about it and I had to fix it. 
> 
> Nope, English is still not my first language and I have no beta reader so, please, be indulgent with any possible grammar or spelling mistakes, but do not hesitate to point them out in the comments so I can fix them!
> 
> Again, you can find this fic in Spanish here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28454385
> 
> I hope you like it!

**I FOUND YOU**

A day without Merlin. Two days without Merlin. Arthur did not want to count three. If the hours without him were terribly dull, the days without Merlin were tedious and irrelevant; these were lost days.

Arthur knew what he was talking about. He had it well checked. Merlin had the ability and the habit of vanishing without a trace and without warning from time to time; Arthur had accepted that peculiarity as one of the many rarities and mysteries that surrounded his unique friend. But, over the years, Arthur had also realized that Merlin was never away for more than forty-eight hours in a row. By then, Merlin should have already stormed in his chambers with a silly smile on his face and a poor excuse in his pocket.

And Arthur found this new disappearance particularly strange. Ever since they had been to Ismere, Merlin had been more distressed and worried about Arthur’s wellbeing than usual. And, speaking of Merlin, that involved levels that bordered on paranoia. Merlin’s stubborn loyalty knew no bounds, Arthur knew that, but lately his servant had become his shadow. He came to wake him up earlier and earlier in the mornings and was reluctant to leave him alone at night. Arthur had realized that he had made a habit of doing his chores at a deliberately and exasperatedly slow pace, as if trying to prolong them as much as possible until he had no choice but to leave for the night. And then, when he had run out of excuses to keep fluttering about his chambers, Merlin would cast a languid glance at him and walk away, only to look at him one last time before closing the door with some incomprehensible anguish painted on his eyes and unuttered words confined behind his always sealed lips. Arthur noticed all this, of course he did, but he said nothing. In part, because Merlin moved him, and in part because he knew he could do nothing to change it. Merlin was like that.

And that was why that sudden disappearance was not a good omen, or at least that was what the permanent knot of concern in Arthur’s stomach seemed to think. And the added fact that Merlin had disappeared precisely during the visit of a king like the Sarrum made it almost inconceivable. 

Because a distressed Arthur had told Merlin about the brutal ways of his guest. And Arthur had seen the wrinkle that had formed between Merlin’s eyebrows, the gesture of disgust his lips had drawn. And he was supposed to believe that Merlin had gone just like that, of his own accord, for more than two days, when said man was sleeping under the same roof as Arthur? Arthur was certain that there were many things he did not know about his servant, but just by the same token he was certain that Merlin would never leave him for so long at a time like that.

It was not like Merlin could have done anything to protect him if the Sarrum attempted something during the negotiations. It was not that. It was, simply, that Merlin was always there in these situations. Always. Being a bright and comforting presence, a constant that cooled his mind and warmed his heart.

And now he was not there.

And something was not right.

Guinevere was not putting the armour on him well to begin with. She was doing it too rapidly and carelessly. And, although it was his wife who was attending to him, Arthur found himself missing the gentleness and delicacy of Merlin’s touch.

“I want Merlin back, where is he?” he could not help but splutter.

Gwen tightened the last leash harshly.

“You mustn’t be hard on him,” she said in response, making Arthur’s brow furrow.

He was not angry with Merlin. He was genuinely worried.

“I am a bit worried,” Arthur confessed, pursing his lips. “You don’t think something’s happened to him, do you?”

“He’s probably overworked. Maybe you just once let him enjoy himself?

“You’re right,” Arthur muttered, not convinced at all.

“Besides, you’ve got more important things to worry about,” she added.

At that moment, someone knocked on the door.

“Gaius?” Arthur greeted when the physician came into the room.

“My Lord. I need to speak to you. It’s about Merlin. I’m worried about him.”

Arthur sighed.

“Me too. I was just telling Guinevere. You don’t know where he is?”

Gaius shook his head.

“His bed hasn’t been slept in, Sire,” he informed. “I fear he might be in danger. I was wondering, maybe you could send a search party...”

“Of course,” Arthur nodded. “I’ll arrange…”

“Oh,” Gwen cut him off. “Ah, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

The two men turned to look at her with identical scowls.

“I’m sorry. I should have said something. Arthur, I feel terrible. This is my fault. I know where Merlin is.”

“Where?” Gaius asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I shouldn’t say… I promised him I wouldn’t, but…” she bit her lip and sighed. “He’s gone to visit someone.”

“Who?” Arthur asked, confused. Merlin did not have many people he could visit, apart from his mother.

“He is not in danger,” she clarified. “He… is seeing a girl.”

“Merlin?” Arthur blurted, almost laughing at the absurdity of the idea.

Merlin and girls were two realities that simply did not fit, just like oil and water.

“No,” Gaius then said, softly.

Arthur spun around to look at him. Gwen gaped, astonished.

“Excuse me, Gaius?”

“I’m sorry, but with all due respect, Merlin isn’t seeing any girl. In fact, as far as I know, he left with a boy.”

“With a boy?”

Well, that was more worrying. Not for any particular reason. That Merlin preferred men was not something that surprised Arthur. But something in his guts twisted. Merlin, with another… with a man. It was probably none of his business. No, definitely it was not. And yet Arthur felt a burning sensation in the back of his eyes as a sense of abandonment took over him. The fact that Merlin had left, that Merlin had left _him_ to be with another man, caused him a deep sadness whose origin Arthur could not quite explain.

“I thought he was gathering herbs,” he muttered, still feeling strangely betrayed.

“It was just an excuse. I’m sorry, Sire. He asked me to cover for him. But now I’m beginning to worry.”

“Well, does that really matter, that he is with a boy?” Gwen snorted with a touch of impatience unlike her. “I guess he was embarrassed and told me it was a woman. The result is the same. He needs time for himself, and that’s why I think we shouldn’t worry, much less bother him.”

“No,” Gaius said for the second time that morning.

Arthur did not like what used to come after those noes.

“Please, Gaius,” he begged, crossing his arms with a dreadful sense of unease. “Tell us what you know.”

The old man sighed.

“A boy arrived at midnight. He showed up in the kitchens, looking for Merlin. He said that his little sister was very ill and needed a physician. Merlin took pity on him and decided to go to look after the girl. That's the last I know of him. He promised to come back before dusk, but he’s not returned. I'm afraid it might be a trap, Sire. I'm afraid he may be in danger.”

"A trap for Merlin?" Why would anyone want to set him up?” Gwen said, giggling in disbelief.

Arthur frowned. All right. Now that was typical of Merlin. Merlin had gone with a boy, but not in the way Arthur had imagined. Yet, he did not feel relieved. On the contrary, his concern increased more and more.

“Why didn’t he tell me anything?” he asked, frustrated.

The physician stared at him with cautious eyes before answering.

“Well, Sire, I guess Merlin thought you may not give him permission to go help the girl, what with the Sarrum being here. Besides…”

“Besides, what?”

Gaius sighed.

“The boy was a druid, Sire.”

Arthur’s eyes widened as he understood what Gaius meant.

“Merlin thought I’d arrest him? For being a druid?”

“Your father would have. And not only that. He’d have him burned.”

Arthur clenched his jaws.

“I’m not my father. I’d never jail an innocent, let alone sentence them to death. I thought that, of all people, Merlin would know that,” he said, hurt.

“Merlin knows that,” Gaius assured him. “I don’t think he thought you’d hurt the boy. I guess he feared you wouldn’t let him help him. I guess he feared that you considered it wasn’t worth the risk, considering that they were druids.”

Arthur took a deep breath.

“I’d never stop anyone from helping a sick and endangered girl, wherever she comes from. On the contrary. I’d have gladly provided the means necessary to help her.”

The corners of Gaius’s lips quirked up slightly, and Arthur would have sworn that his eyes sparkled with pride for a moment. However, his gaze was immediately tinged with concern again.

“That’s what worries me. I fear maybe there’s never been a sick girl. I had a bad feeling since that boy showed up. And Merlin’s disappearance only confirms my suspicions.”

“So, you think it was a trickery to try to get Merlin out of Camelot and lure him into a trap? But why?”

“It’s ridiculous,” Gwen pointed out, earning a harsh glance from Gaius.

“I don’t know why, Sire,” he finally admitted, crestfallen. “I only know the facts. And the facts are that Merlin left Camelot two days ago with a stranger promising he’d be back before nightfall, and that we still have no news of him.”

Arthur nodded, feeling a new wave of concern sweeping his stomach.

“I’ll lead the search patrol. We’re leaving right now.”

“Arthur!” Gwen protested. “You cannot leave Camelot in the middle of an official visit!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be away for a long time.”

“But you cannot do without a full patrol of knights while you are guesting a king you’ve historically had tensions with just to go find a lowly servant,” she remarked.

“To go find Merlin,” Arthur corrected her, frowning. “If necessary, Guinevere, I would mobilize the whole army.”

Gwen sighed.

“Yes, I am worried about him too, but…”

Arthur pressed a finger against her lips.

“Guinevere. Please. You are not going to make me change my mind. I know that, as a queen, you are keeping Camelot’s best interests in regard. But the Sarrum is here to sign a peace treaty. And he knows our kingdom is stronger. He won’t try anything. Believe me.”

She bit her lip.

“I’ll just take a couple of men, and I’ll leave some of my more trusted men here. But I won’t abandon Merlin. If it was the other way around, he’d go looking for me without a moment’s thought.”

“Because you are the king,” Gwen said weakly. “It’s his duty.”

Arthur shook his head.

“No, Guinevere. Merlin would do it because I’m his friend. And I’m going to go find him because he is my friend, and I care.”

“But what if it’s a trap for…?”

Arthur did not let her finish. He gave her a quick kiss on her cheek that she seemed about to dodge, and then he reached the door of his chambers in three resolute strides.

*****

Three riders galloped out of the citadel of Camelot not long after, led by two noisy dogs. Straight on the tallest horse, Arthur spared a last glance to the towers of his castle, but he decided he left Camelot safely with Guinevere and Leon. Beside him, Percival and Gwaine rode in a gloomy silence.

Arthur had expressly come in search of Percival, because, in the absence of Leon, he was the knight that transmitted him the most calm and serenity when Arthur needed it most, and because he was big and strong, and if Merlin were hurt, he could carry him without difficulty. He had found Gwaine stuck to Percival, as usual, and as soon as he had spotted him, Arthur knew he could do nothing to prevent him from coming, not when it came to Merlin.

Now, Percival rode in a thoughtful silence that did not trouble Arthur, because it was not unusual in him. But that the loud and carefree Gwaine kept that serious gesture only reminded him of the gravity of the situation. Gwaine’s nervous energy joined his own in a whirlwind of dire omens.

Arthur did not want to think about that. He had no desire to dwell on anguish and fear. He just wanted to pretend he was just going for a ride, or that he was going on a patrol; anything but that they were searching for Merlin, who had been missing for two days.

A part of Arthur believed that they would find him romping in a spring meadow, smelling the flowers and too absorbed in his daydreaming that he had lost track of time. Or, more probably, that they would find him kneeling beside the bed of a sick girl, gently placing cold cloths on her forehead. And he would not even mind to find him snogging some bloke behind some bushes. As far as they knew, all these options were plausible.

And Arthur simply could not imagine Merlin hurt or in danger because, for some miraculous reason, despite all the dangers they used to go through, Merlin was always fine. That was one of those almost fantastic aspects that surrounded Merlin in that aura of mystery that never ceased to fascinate Arthur, and Arthur had long since accepted that Merlin was somewhat immortal. But despite that blind faith in Merlin —because, deep down, Arthur believed that it was Merlin himself who just decided to cling to life, too loyal to let any injury overcome his desire to stay by Arthur’s side, too stubborn to let death win the battle—, Gwaine’s frown and worried gesture led Arthur to imagine the worst sceneries.

That was the reason he had not planned to take with him someone who cared about Merlin almost as much as he did. He had enough with restraining his own anguish.

Arthur heard a whistle and saw how Percival stopped his horse to get closer to the dogs and help them follow the trail. Arthur looked at him approvingly. Another reason he had chosen Percival was that he was good with animals, especially dogs. It had been him who had suggested training them to follow other types of trails other than hunting prey, and he had taken charge of their training with very good results. Thanks to his dogs they had managed to seize more than one fugitive who otherwise would have escaped inevitably. In that moment, the knight was offering them a piece of red cloth that the dogs were sniffing with enthusiasm, and Arthur’s heart shrank painfully in recognition. 

It had been him, Arthur, who had followed Gaius into his tower in the search for something that smelled like Merlin. He knew the dogs would follow his trail easily; Merlin had a weakness for all living things, and dogs were not an exception, so they used to be spoiled by his servant. Arthur had opened his friend’s disarranged wardrobe, and his eyes had immediately spotted those cloths Merlin always wore around his neck. Arthur had never understood what this thing of his and neckerchiefs was, but anyhow he had learnt to associate them with his servant unconsciously. He had brought one closer to his face to check if it was fresh washed, because dogs needed something that really smelt like Merlin, and Merlin’s scent had sneaked into his nose, taking possession of all his senses and blurring everything else. And, for a moment, Arthur had abandoned himself to that scent which was both sweet and salty, delicate and manly; that smell which made him feel safe and home. His fingers had tightened around the neckerchief, and if he had let himself be carried away by emotion, Arthur would have sobbed into it. But there was not time to let himself be weak, and besides it was useless. Because he had to find Merlin. Because Merlin had to be fine.

And yet, Arthur wished he had a nose as fine as that of dogs, and be able to distinguish, among the milliard of aromas that the spring breeze carried along, the scent of Merlin. His scent, filling his lungs with every breath he took.

“Come on, Gwaine, what’s with the long face? Merlin will surely be attending to that poor little girl. You know how wimpy the idiot is. He won’t have had the heart to leave her alone in her state,” Arthur told his knight in a forced cheerful voice when they stopped to water the horses, because he could not stand the wretched look in his eyes.

Gwaine glared at him.

“What I don’t understand is why he didn’t tell me anything,” he said, kicking a stone in his frustration. “Why didn’t he ask me for help? Damn it, I’d have gone with him without a second thought. And now he’s been missing for two days.”

“Maybe he’s trying to take the girl to Camelot,” Percival suggested, joining Arthur in his attempt to raise the spirits. “He must have been delayed by something.”

“Yes. Maybe.”

They did not speak again for the rest of the journey.

*****

The dogs had followed the trail with confidence until they had stopped and had looked around hesitantly, not knowing in which direction they should turn. Arthur did not like to notice that they suddenly looked nervous. Their eyes darted uneasily from side to side, and they whimpered with their ears down and their tails between their legs. It was not the first time Arthur had seen dogs react in that way. They used to do it when they perceived something supernatural in the environment. Something like magic.

“The trail ends here,” Percival announced, scowling. “The dogs don’t know where to go now.”

Arthur nodded and determinedly dismounted from his horse.

“Right. Let’s split up. Merlin must be somewhere near. Percival, take the dogs with you and go up the hill. They were going in that direction until they stopped; they may be able to get back on the trail. Gwaine, you keep heading north. I’ll inspect the lower part of the hollow. If any of you find Merlin, you try and make a signal of alarm and then come back here, with the horses. It’ll be the meeting point. Whatever happens, we’ll meet here again before the sun sets over those hills. Is it understood?”

Their knights nodded, and each of them started off in a different direction.

*

Arthur walked across the unstable ground, dodging low bushes and roots and stumbling so often that he wondered if Merlin may have passed him on some of his pathological clumsiness. But then again, Merlin stumbled even on the smoothest ground in the world, and Arthur was going through what looked like a field riddled with traps, so he was not going to feel embarrassed.

He was not sure how he felt. A part of him expected not to find Merlin, simply because he was terrified of the state he could find him in. He would rather never find him than find him… find him…

Arthur sighed. He positively knew that he would never be prepared to lose Merlin. That part of him silently prayed they had to come back to Camelot empty-handed, only to find Merlin there welcoming him back with a smug smile and an insolent «were you worried about me?» on his lips.

And that was when he saw it. Down in the hollow. A rigid and inanimate body, a brown jacket and an unmistakable red neckerchief.

And his world froze. His heart froze in his chest and forgot to beat for a couple of seconds as it sank into his stomach. Then, as suddenly as it had stopped, with a violent jolt, it began pounding again, frantic and wild, hammering against his chest and thundering in his ears. The only thing Arthur could hear was his blood roaring in his veins, and when his vision blurred, he realised he was not breathing, that he could not breath, because he felt as if something were crushing his chest.

“Merlin,” he whispered.

Hearing his servant’s name from his own lips made him react. He gave a great jump, fell on the hollow and ran towards Merlin.

Arthur had been afraid many times. Fear had been a constant in his life since he was very young, to the point that Arthur believed he had tamed it, turning it into a docile animal, almost an old friend, that he could keep under control. But in that occasion the fear rebelled and attacked him with wild ferocity, ripping through his heart. Never, ever, had he felt such a great fear. He had never experienced a terror as raw as that caused by the sight of Merlin’s inert body, a terror that only increased with every step that brought him closer to his friend. Arthur wanted time to run and Arthur wanted time to stop; he wanted to get to Merlin’s side as soon as possible, but he never wanted to get there, because in that frantic run there was still a spark of hope, because in ignorance he still could find comfort. Reaching Merlin meant entering in the terrain of certainty, of the irremediable and definitive, and if his worst fears were to be confirmed, then there would be no hope. There would be nothing.

And yet, his race eventually ended, and Arthur was soon by Merlin’s side. Dropping on his knees beside him, he took in, aghast, how rigid his limbs looked, how pale his skin shone, covered in sweat, how bruised his lips were.

“Merlin,” he muttered, placing a trembling hand on his chest.

Suddenly, in a completely implausible way, Merlin’s eyelashes fluttered, turning Arthur’s nightmare into a mere dream.

“Arthur?” he managed to mumble, before even fully opening his eyes.

Arthur peered his face, anxious, and felt enormously relieved when Merlin’s gaze fixed on him and lit up in recognition.

“Hey, Merlin. It’s me. I’m here. I found you. I’m here,” he stuttered incoherently.

“About damn time. What took you so long?” he said, smiling softly.

Arthur let out a snore that almost sounded like a sob.

“If you ever scare me like that again, I’ll kill you,” he warned.

But Merlin did not laugh. Although he was wonderfully alive, he still looked terribly ill.

“HERE!” Arthur shouted, hoping his knights would hear him. “I FOUND HIM!”

Merlin’s face twisted in pain, and he closed his eyes tightly.

“Merlin. Merlin, hey. Stay with me.”

“Yes,” he said, trying hard to focus his gaze.

“What happened?”

“Morgana,” Merlin answered, grasping Arthur’s arm as he suffered a new spasm. “The boy… It was a trap.”

Merlin dropped his head, exhausted, and Arthur pursed his lips.

“What did she do to you? Merlin!” he called, desperate, seeing that his servant was not responding.

“He’s been poisoned,” a voice said behind him. 

Arthur spun around and, discovering a boy who could not be other than the druid who had led Merlin into this trap, he leaped to his feet and drew his sword.

“You!” he roared.

The boy’s eyes widened, terrified, and he was not even manly enough to try to defend himself. He just stared at him, paralyzed, as a fawn about to be shot.

“Arthur, no!” Merlin squeaked behind him, and Arthur stopped his sword a few inches away from the boy’s chest. “Leave him. It’s not his fault.”

“You. Are you the druid who deceived Merlin?”

“I’m not really a druid,” the boy said, raising two shaking hands. “Morgana paid me.”

Arthur placed the blade of his sword under his chin.

“But I didn’t know what she intended to do to him! I’m trying to help him!”

“Arthur,” Merlin called sternly, but the next thing that escaped his lips was a pained whimper.

Arthur glared at the fake druid and knelt beside Merlin again.

“Come on, let’s go” he said, placing a hand on the back of his neck and another under his hips. “We’re going home.”

“No, Arthur,” Merlin protested, trying to push his hands away with a weak slap.

“What do you mean not?”

“It’s too late. There’s no time.”

“What do you mean there’s no time, what nonsense is that?” he said, almost shouting. “Of course there’s time. Come on. I’ll take you to Gaius, and…”

“Arthur.”

The serious and almost authoritative tone of Merlin’s watery voice managed to break the bubble of denial in which Arthur was hiding. He blinked, as if awakened from a dream, and looked at his friend with concern and seriousness.

“What can I do, Merlin?”, he asked at last, because after all that was what he always did when facing any crisis, no matter what kind of crisis it was: ask Merlin.

His servant stared at him with warm eyes and gestured in the boy’s direction. 

“He knows,” he stuttered.

Arthur turned to look at the boy with a scowl.

“I’m trying to find some herbs to prepare an antidote,” he explained.

“How do you know…?”

“He told me which herbs he needs,” the boy said pointing at Merlin, and Arthur nodded slowly.

“And you haven’t found them?”

“I… I didn’t want to go too far. I didn’t want to leave him alone.”

Arthur nodded again.

“Right. Go pick them. I’ll stay with Merlin. If you come across any of my knights, ask them for help. Tell them I ordered you to do so.”

The boy wrung his hands nervously.

“And who… who are you?” he asked in a small voice.

“My name is Arthur Pendragon,” Arthur answered.

The kid —because he was almost a kid— widened his eyes when he heard his name, but immediately he turned and began to walk away from them.

“If you don’t come back, I’ll find you and I’ll kill you!” Arthur threatened.

The boy flinched and started to run.

“Arthur,” Merlin scolded him again.

“Shut up. It’s his fault you’ve been poisoned, and I am neither going to forgive him nor argue with you, because you’re not going to change my mind,” Arthur warned.

Merlin coughed weakly in response.

“And I’m quite mad at you too,” Arthur added as he settled Merlin’s head on his lap, “because it turns out that you’re even more of an idiot than I thought. But don’t worry, we’ll talk about that later.”

“Hmmm.”

“Ah, but don’t you think I’m going to let it go,” Arthur said, brushing Merlin’s sweat-damp hair off his forehead. “You won’t get away so easily.”

“Arthur…”

“Yes, Merlin?”

“Morgana could come back.”

“Let her come back.”

“But…”

“No buts, Merlin. I’m not moving from here.”

Merlin made a little noise of protest.

“Ah, I see, always the same: questioning the judgement of your king.”

“Hmmm.”

“You never change, do you?”

With his eyes closed, Merlin smiled slightly.

“No,” he could say before passing out.

Arthur stared at him, holding his breath.

“You’d better,” he whispered in a tight voice once he was relieved to see that he was still breathing. “Don’t you dare change, Merlin. And much less leave me.”

*****

Arthur lost track of time. He did not know how long he had been there, holding Merlin, obsessively checking his pulse, agonizing over each of his laboured breaths, holding his head up fearing he would choke. It was scary, to see him so pale, so weak, so sick. Arthur wished he could take his place. He would rather live that on his own flesh than watch Merlin suffering.

Of all the things Morgana had done to date, this was surely the worst. This, this was the thing Arthur could never forgive her for. She had taken Guinevere first, and now she had tried to take Merlin from him forever. He wondered if his sister was aware that she had finally reached her goal. If she would rejoice in the knowledge that her attacks had finally reached his heart. 

The fake druid boy was slow to return, and Arthur feared they would never see him again. Besides, at best, assuming his intentions were truly good —which Arthur doubted— there was no guarantee that he would be able to find the herbs Merlin needed. A part of Arthur knew Merlin would stand more chances if he joined the search, because waiting with him for a help that might never come would be useless. But Arthur could not leave him. He just could not.

Finally, when hopelessness and despair were starting to take hold of Arthur, when Merlin looked about to choke in one if his weak watery coughs, the boy returned followed by Percival and Gwaine.

“The fucking yarrow was hard to find,” the latter greeted. “How is he?”

“He breathes,” Arthur answered.

Gwaine understood the gravity of his friend’s state and did not add anything. Hearing new voices, Merlin shifted in Arthur’s arms.

“Arthur?”

“I’m here, Merlin. And, hey, look who’s here too. Gwaine’s brought you your medicine. You are going to be just fine.”

“Hello, Gwaine,” Merlin greeted with difficulty, managing to draw a smile. “Percival. Did you miss me?”

Gwaine snorted and chuckled, and then handed Arthur a makeshift bowl made of leaves. He then took two steps back to stand next to Percival, giving the king and his servant their space.

“Okay, Merlin, drink this,” Arthur commanded, lifting his head with delicacy and bringing the mixture to his lips.

Merlin’s eyes fixed on the clear liquid, as if assessing it, and he grunted approvingly. However, before taking the first sip, he fixed his gaze on Arthur.

“Come on, drink it,” Arthur urged.

Merlin pursed his lips and nodded, still staring at him. One of his hands ran down Arthur’s free arm, urgently searching for his hand, and when he finally found it, he grasped it and brought it to his chest. Trying to contain the whirlwind of feelings that crushed his chest, Arthur squeezed it back tightly.

“It’s going to hurt,” Merlin warned. “Don’t be scared, okay?”

“Me? Scared?” Arthur tried to joke.

A fleeting smile passed over Merlin’s face. Then, he closed his eyes and gulped down the potion.

His body immediately stiffened, and his hand closed so tightly around Arthur’s that it hurt, but he just returned the squeeze. Almost instantly he began to convulse, letting out gasps and roars of pain.

Arthur, helpless, could not do more than clasp Merlin’s hand with one hand, and hold his chest firmly with the other, trying to keep him still and firm into the ground.

“Easy, Merlin, easy. I’m here. I’m here. You’re with me. Hold on, Merlin,” he kept saying to him with clenched jaws and eyes full of tears. “Hold on, Merlin, hold on. Come on, Merlin.”

The process was violent and terrible, but just as suddenly as it had started, it ended. All of a sudden, the spasms and stiffness subsided, and, with a last exhalation, Merlin’s body collapsed before Arthur’s eyes, lifeless. 

“Merlin?” Arthur called in a trembling voice.

Merlin’s chest remained terribly still, as if he were a statue. Silence fell in the forest. The knights and the boy held their breath, the birds stopped singing, and even the wind seemed to stop.

“MERLIN!”

And, just when Arthur was about to shout to the universe not to dare take Merlin’s life, not to dare take him from him, his servant parted his lips and took a deep breath. Arthur thought it was the most wonderful sound he had ever heard.

“Merlin! That’s it, that’s it. Breathe. Breathe, Merlin,” Arthur told him, placing his palms on his chest, as if to help him with the task.

They all stood waiting, vigilant, awaiting each of Merlin’s breaths and exhalations, watching Arthur’s hands rise and fall on his chest, each time at a more regular rhythm, until Merlin’s breathing stabilized.

“Make a fire,” Arthur commanded then. “And get ready to make camp. We are spending the night here.”

*****

Arthur did not leave Merlin’s side. He covered him with his own cloak when he saw he was shivering and ordered his knights to light the fire next to him, so they would not have to move him. The dogs, understanding where they were most needed, lay next to Merlin, offering him their body heat.

Arthur sat by Merlin’s side and waited. Eventually, Percival and Gwaine went to sleep and the boy, who was still there, curled up on himself, although Arthur was not sure if he was asleep. He remained awake, next to Merlin, elbows on knees and chin on hands, his eyes darting from the hypnotic dance of the flames to Merlin’s placid-looking face.

Well into the night, Merlin grunted and stirred. Arthur stared at him, holding his breath. After what seemed an eternity and several fluttering of lashes, Merlin slowly opened his eyes. Arthur saw his brow furrow as he tried to focus his gaze, disoriented, and watched as he pressed a hand against his forehead and tried to sit up.

“Shhh. Stay still. Take it easy,” he told him, softly.

Merlin startled and looked in his direction. When he recognised Arthur, his eyes lit in a bright sparkle, and he automatically relaxed.

“Ow,” he complained, dropping his head on the pillow Arthur had made with a piece of cloth.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” Merlin confessed wrinkling his nose. “But at least I am alive”.

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

Merlin propped himself up on his elbows to stare at him with a frown. Arthur nodded towards the layers of clothes that hid the fake druid boy.

“Daegal,” Merlin whispered, widening his eyes.

“Ah. That’s his name, then?” Arthur said nonchalantly. “Good to know. I only knew him as the fake traitorous druid boy with whom you left without breathing a word and who turned out to be a liar who led you right into Morgana’s hands”.

Merlin shivered slightly.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

Arthur sighed.

“What can I do, Merlin?”

“What… What do you mean?”

“What can I do, to prove you that you can trust me? What must I do, to make you understand that I am not my father?”

“Arthur…”

“Do you really believed I wouldn’t let you go help a sick druid girl, Merlin? Do you really think so little of me?”

“What? Arthur, no, it’s not… It’s not that.”

“What is it about then, Merlin?”

“I… I don’t know,” he confessed, frustrated.

“You don’t know.”

“No, Arthur, I… I didn’t want to worry you with yet another problem. I didn’t want you to send knights with me. The Sarrum was in Camelot and I… I wanted to fix it on my own, without bothering you. And then I guess that if I had come to you with Daegal’s story…”

“…I’d have made you see that the whole story reeked of trap?” Arthur completed. “‘Cause you’re right, I’d have.”

“And you wouldn’t have let me come. And, should it have been true…”

“It wasn’t!”

“If it had been, a little girl would have died,” Merlin said calmly. “I guess I was willing to take the risk. I, and I alone. I didn’t want to endanger you, or the knights.”

Arthur grunted.

“So, I was right. You're even more of an idiot than I thought.”

Merlin chuckled softly and a pained groan escaped him. Arthur eyed him, worried.

“Thank you for coming for me,” Merlin said without opening his eyes.

“You’d have done the same for me.”

It was not the first time Arthur said those words, but that did not make them any less true. One of the few things Arthur knew for certain in this world was that Merlin would lay down his life for Arthur, and that Arthur would lay down his for Merlin. It had always been like that.

“But, please, Merlin. Don’t ever do anything like that again. Trust me. Speak to me. And let’s try to figure things out together. And if you feel that I don’t pay proper attention to what you have to say, or that I’m behaving like an arse, just tell me. If there’s anyone capable of making me see reason is you, Merlin.”

Merlin looked stunned for a moment, but he soon cracked a blindingly fond smile.

“Just… don’t ever take a risk like that on your own again,” Arthur completed after clearing his throat. “I know that you're an idiot but, in the future, try to leave foolishness to me.”

Merlin’s indigo eyes seemed to shine more than the full moon over their heads.

“You were worried about me, huh?” he asked with a crooked smile.

Arthur tried to hide his smirk.

“No. But if you’d died, I’d have killed you.”

Merlin laughed a little louder, and his mouth twisted once more in a new pained wince.

“Does it hurt?”

“It burns a little. When I breath.”

“But you are going to be okay, right?”

“Yeah. You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”

Arthur smiled and stared into the flames.

“What are you going to do with him?” Merlin asked, and Arthur knew he was talking about the boy.

“Well... I still want to throttle him. But he wasn’t bad at preparing you your medicine. And he’s still here.”

“He’s not a bad boy. Morgana tricked him. He needed the money. And he didn’t know what she intended to do to me. He regretted it, and you see how hard he’s tried to help me to make up for it. In the end, he’s saved my life.”

“Yeah but, in the first place, you were poisoned because of him.”

“Yeah, well, those are mixed feelings.”

“Indeed.”

“Let’s try to tip the scales in his favour, then. Daegal,” he called without raising his voice.

The boy stirred under his cloak and stuck his head out. As Arthur had suspected, he was not asleep.

“Would you mind joining us, please?” Merlin asked politely.

The boy got up and walked over to the fire, head down and casting wary glances at them.

“Could you tell us what Morgana is up to?”

He gulped and wrung his hands nervously.

“Please,” Arthur chimed in. “Tell us everything you know. I guarantee you, if you confide in us, no harm will come to you. She won’t be able to hurt you.”

Daegal nodded and smiled shyly. He took a seat in front of them and he told them in whispers everything he knew about Morgana’s plans. He also talked about Guinevere.

Guinevere, who was conspiring behind his back with Morgana. Guinevere, who, according to Merlin’s theory, was under some kind of enchantment.

“We’ll get her back. I promise,” Merlin assured him.

Flames reflected in his eyes the colour of the night sky, and there was such intensity in that gaze that it almost burned. Arthur felt himself burn under it, and he decided to believe Merlin, because such a stare left no choice but to have blind faith in it.

*****

At dawn, with a plan drawn up and Merlin clinging to Arthur on the king’s horse, the group started their way back to Camelot. Arthur kept thanking the gods for the healthy looks of his friend, who was smiling more and more easily despite well, everything, and chatted with the knights and Daegal nonchalantly. The boy in question travelled on Percival’s mare, and was making many questions about Merlin’s job, and about Camelot, and about the dogs; everything seemed to amaze him. For a moment, Arthur almost forgot about the ordeal they would have to go through in order to fix Guinevere. He preferred to focus on the comforting presence of Merlin behind him, on the pleasant warmth of his body, and on the hopes of a future in which, whatever happened, he would not have to face the world alone.

“I was thinking,” he told Merlin during one of the stops to water the horses, “that maybe we could offer Daegal a position in the court. The boy doesn’t seem to have anywhere to go and, after all, if all goes well, he’ll have helped save my life.”

Merlin looked at him with a smile Arthur chose not to interpret, but which tickled his stomach. 

“In fact, I was trying to find the way to bring that up to you. I’d thought that, perhaps, I could take him as an apprentice.”

“Apprentice? Of yours? To what?” Arthur laughed.

“To… you know… Whatever I am.”

“An idiot, you mean?”

“Gaius could teach him to prepare potions and heal wounds. He’s good at it, Arthur. And I could help.”

Arthur stared at him with a fond smile.

“All right. We will welcome him in Camelot, and then we’ll see where we can find him a place.”

Merlin beamed at him, delighted. Smiling back, Arthur wrapped an arm around his waist to help him get back to the horses.

Suddenly, Arthur sniggered.

"What?" Merlin said, eyeing him suspiciously. 

"I just remembered the way Guinevere tried to prevent me from coming for you."

"Huh?"

"She said that you were seeing a girl," Arthur revealed, grinning.

Merlin startled.

"Me? A girl?"

"Yeah, those were my words exactly. Merlin, a girl? I mean, what girl would like you?"

Merlin reddened in annoyance.

"Well, I'll have you know, many girls do actually find me attractive."

"And boys, too," Gwaine chipped in as he passed by. "I've spent years courting our friend Merlin here, but no, he won't put an end to my misery."

Both Merlin and Arthur snorted soundly.

"But don't worry, Merlin, you know I'll keep waiting," he added with a wink before stepping away.

"Yeah, yeah, you keep waiting!" Merlin told him, amused. "See?" he added then, turning to look at Arthur with a triumphant smile. "You're the only one who finds me ugly."

"I don't find you ugly," Arthur said rapidly, without thinking. "Just... difficult to look at," he hurried to add.

Merlin grinned.

"Yeah, sure."

Arthur chuckled softly.

“Come on, let’s get back to Camelot to try to prevent me, if possible, from being killed during dinner.”

“The peace treaty, tomorrow.”

“What?”

“They’ll try to kill you during the sign of the peace treaty tomorrow.”

“Ah, good. Quite convenient. I’m starving.”

Arthur felt Merlin’s silent laugh in his trembling ribs.

“Don’t worry, Sire. As long as I am around, nothing bad is going to happen to you,” he affirmed vehemently.

“That’s very beautiful and I appreciate it, but you know it’s a promise that it’s impossible to keep.”

“Hey, you should follow Morgana’s example and give me more credit. I don’t know if you realise that she tried to kill me so that I couldn’t save you this time.”

“Now that you mention it, it’s true! It seems all the boasting you tell the other servants has reached her ears. Oh, the power of gossip.”

“That’s incredible. You are the biggest dollophead I’ve ever known.”

“I am the only dollophead you’ve ever known.”

“When you’re right, Sire, you’re right”.

Arthur held Merlin tighter, taking advantage of the support he was giving him to hide a hug. He did not know what he would have done, if he had not found Merlin, or if he had arrived too late. But he had found him, and the only thing that mattered was that Merlin was safe and sound, and that he would come back home with him and would always be by his side.

Because Arthur promised himself that, whatever happened, he would never let anyone separate them again. If necessary, he would travel to the last corner of the world to find Merlin. As he knew Merlin would travel to the last corner of the world for him, too.

They would always find a way to find each other, always, even if it took more than a thousand years. Of that Arthur was sure.

**Author's Note:**

> ...And Arthur and Merlin adopted Daegal and they all lived happily ever after.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!  
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated :).  
> I wish you all a Happy New Year.  
> Stay safe and be strong!


End file.
